As she turned from the stove to put the steak she’d just broiled for her father on the table, Emma grinned crookedly at the prettily wrapped package sitting at her usual place. She’d been expecting it.
“Just a little something to let you know how sorry I am for the other night and for being such a bore last night,” her father said with deep apology and remorse.
There was no denying the genuineness of his repentance. Even if she had been angry with him, she knew she would have forgiven him. She always did. “I understand about the other night and you weren’t a bore last night,” she assured him.
He didn’t look convinced. “Seemed to me Kenneth left a mite early.”
“He was just tired,” she replied, adding a baked potato to her father’s plate.
“Then you two are getting along all right?”
Emma glanced at her father as she sat down in her chair to unwrap her package. She could have sworn there was a hint of hope in his voice that she and Kenneth weren’t getting along. “We’re getting along just fine.”
“Glad to hear that.” He quickly dropped his eyes to his steak and cut a piece but not before Emma glimpsed a touch of disappointment on his face.
“I thought you liked Kenneth.”
He met her gaze. “I do,” he assured her.
Emma knew her father well. There was something he wasn’t saying. “But...?” she prompted.
“It’s just that I noticed Mike Flint watching you a couple of weeks back when I’d forgotten my lunch and you brought it to the marina. It was the kind of look a man gets when he’s interested in a woman.”
Emma could barely believe her ears. Her father was matchmaking! “I am not interested in Mike Flint,” she said firmly.
“You’re not interested in marrying a seafaring man,” he corrected.
A flush of embarrassment colored Emma’s cheeks. Through the years, she’d worked hard to keep her father from guessing she felt this way. She’d never wanted to hurt his feelings.
“I asked Mike why he didn’t come courting,” he said, letting her know it was useless to try to lie her way out.
“I simply prefer a man whose fate isn’t dependent on the shifts of the wind and the currents in the sea,” she replied honestly.
Concern suddenly etched itself deeply into his features. “Was your mother unhappy with the life I provided her?”
“No.” Rising from the table, she went to his chair and gave him a hug. “You made her very happy. I don’t know of any couple who was more in love. I envy you that.”
He drew a satisfied breath. “Your mother was a special woman.” He gave her hand a pat as she released him. “You’re a special woman, too.”
“Thanks.” She breathed a sigh of relief to see the concern gone from his face. Returning to her chair, she again began to open the package.
“Mike Flint’s a good man...a steady man,” he said, forking another bite.
Emma looked up at him with a frown that let him know she thought they’d finished with this subject.
“‘Course Kenneth is a good man, too,” he added quickly. “Either one would make a fine husband.”
Emma merely shook her head at his continued effort to champion Mike, then concentrated on opening the package while he completed carrying the bite to his mouth.
Inside the prettily wrapped box was a miniature porcelain doll dressed in an elaborate ball gown.
Peter smiled lovingly at his daughter. “She reminded me of you when you got all decked out in that antebellum dress for the Fourth of July celebration at the country club.”
Emma returned his smile. “She’s lovely.” Then rising from the table, she added, “I’d better finish getting myself ready. Kenneth should be here any minute.”
“Have a good time,” he said as she headed to the door.
Pausing, she turned back. “Thanks, I will.”
A sheepish expression came over his face. “I told Mike that if I was in his shoes I wouldn’t give up too quickly trying to win you. I told him you were worth fighting for.”
Emma shook her head in frustration. “Thanks, Dad,” she returned dryly, and completed her exit.
“I’m just performing my fatherly duties to the best of my ability,” he called after her. “Wouldn’t want you to miss an opportunity you might regret.”
First Martha and now her father, she groaned as she went upstairs. Well, no one was going to undermine her resolve. She knew what kind of life she wanted.
And Kenneth was her Mr. Right, she assured herself a few minutes later as she climbed into the passenger seat of his Mustang.
Sliding in on the driver’s side, he smiled at her. “I thought we’d skip the barbecue at the country club and have a quiet dinner at my place.”
“That sounds nice,” she replied, noting that the smile did not quite reach his eyes. There was also a rigid set to his jaw she’d only seen when he was holding back anger. “And maybe you’ll finally tell me what has been bothering you,” she added bluntly.
He raised an eyebrow questioningly as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “Like I’ve already told you, nothing is bothering me.”
“That would be more believable if you hadn’t said it through almost clenched teeth,” she returned.
He frowned at the road ahead. “You’re exaggerating.”
The fact that he hadn’t looked at her made Emma positive there was something seriously wrong. “One of the things I value most in our relationship is that we’ve always been honest with each other,” she said frankly. “Above all else, I’m your friend. You can count on me.” She studied the taut line of his jaw. “Is Monica McBrady here to cause you trouble?”
His jaw twitched in an outward display of irritation. Emma was sure he was angry with her for being so persistent, then he said curtly, “Monica is merely a thorn in my side. She can’t cause me any trouble.” The way he spoke let Emma know that all of his ire was directed at the redhead.
Even more, she was now certain this “nothing” was much more serious than he was admitting. She wanted to help but first she had to know what was going on. “Who is Monica McBrady? What is she to you?”
Kenneth was now glowering at the road ahead. “She’s an old girlfriend.” Self-mockery showed on his face. “Actually I once thought I was in love with her. But I was wrong.”
A sudden truth dawned on Emma. Monica was a guest of the Evanses. That meant she had free access to the country club. “Are we having dinner at your place because you honestly want to spend some time alone with me or because you want to avoid Monica?”
He glanced toward her then and smiled one of his most charming smiles. “I want to spend a quiet evening with you.”
Emma didn’t know exactly why, he certainly sounded truthful, but she didn’t totally believe him.
I’m just looking for trouble where there isn’t any, she scolded herself a little later as she carried two place settings out to the table on the balcony of Kenneth’s condominium. They’d stopped by the video rental store on their way here and picked up a couple of Cary Grant classics. By the time they’d reached the condo, Kenneth had begun to honestly relax and was telling her an amusing story about one of the lessons he’d given that day. Now Frank Sinatra was playing on the stereo while the coals in the barbecue were heating and Kenneth was creating a salad he swore would rival those of the great chefs of Europe.
“The perfect salad,” he announced, joining her and placing the huge bowl of cut greens on the table with a flourish.
“The perfect beginning of a perfect dinner on a perfect evening,” she replied. Breathing in deeply of the warm summer air, she gazed out toward the ocean. “Beautiful scenery...a charming dinner companion...what more could a girl ask for?” This was exactly what she wanted her life to be like, she added silently. Deep within a tiny note of discord twanged. She ignored it.
“Absolutely nothing, I hope,” he replied, drawing her into his arms.
As his lips found hers, she waited for her toes to want to curl. They didn’t. She added her own energy to the kiss. Still, nothing. Not nothing, she berated herself. His touch was pleasant, his lips warm and the kiss was nice. And that’s enough for me, she affirmed.
“Dinner could wait awhile,” he said huskily, nuzzling the hollow behind her ear, then capturing her earlobe gently in his teeth.
Emma stiffened. She wasn’t ready for what she knew he was suggesting. “I’d sort of planned on saving some experiences for my wedding night,” she said, trying to explain her reticence as much to herself as to him. In a forced playful tone, she added, “Besides, I wouldn’t want the greatest salad in the world to wilt before we had a chance to eat it.”
Kenneth breathed a resigned sigh. Then lifting his head from hers, he gave her an understanding wink. “No, we wouldn’t.”
As she seated herself and watched him put the steaks on the grill before joining her, she frowned at the way she’d recoiled from him. I’m simply more old-fashioned than I thought, she reasoned. And being old-fashioned was not a bad thing. This way her wedding night would be very special. Satisfied with her conclusions as to why she’d reacted as she had, she began serving the salad.
During the meal she worked to keep the conversation light, bringing up old comedy movies she’d especially enjoyed. Again Kenneth’s taste and hers seemed to match perfectly. We are so right for each other, she told herself as he insisted she remain seated while he went into the kitchen to get their desserts.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll get it,” she called out, already out of her chair.
Opening the door, she had to fight back a gasp of surprise.
“I didn’t want Kenneth to miss having some of Jason’s fabulous barbecue,” Monica McBrady said, extending a platter toward Emma.
Protectiveness welled within Emma. Whatever this woman’s game was, she would not allow her to hurt Kenneth. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy them.” She accepted the platter but remained in the doorway, blocking the redhead’s entrance.
A flush of embarrassment had begun to spread across Monica’s features.
“Who’s here?” Kenneth’s voice died in an abrupt snort.
Glancing over her shoulder, Emma saw him standing a few feet behind her, an expression of angry impatience on his face.
Monica visibly stiffened. “I thought you were ill. Jason said you’d skipped the barbecue because you weren’t feeling well. I apologize for interrupting an obviously romantic evening.”
As the redhead turned to make a quick retreat, Emma was stunned by the pain she glimpsed in Monica McBrady’s eyes. Closing the door, she turned to Kenneth. He was still glaring beyond her to where Monica had stood.
Uncertain of what to say, she recalled the platter in her hands. “I’ll just put this in the kitchen.”
He blinked, clearly surprised by the sound of her voice, and she realized he’d momentarily forgotten she was even there. “I’m sorry about the interruption,” he apologized gruffly, following her into the kitchen.
“Are you sure you and Monica McBrady don’t have some unfinished business?” she asked bluntly, as she put the meat into the refrigerator.
“None,” he replied firmly.
“I think she thinks you do.”
“Monica changes her mind the way the wind changes direction. Besides, what she wants isn’t important. As far as I’m concerned there is no ‘unfinished’ business between us.”
She wanted to believe him, but her instincts warned her this could be foolish. “There seems to be a lot of anger remaining on your part. You wouldn’t feel that way if you hadn’t felt strongly about her.”
“I told you,” he growled, “I thought I was in love with her. I suppose I was. But I’m not anymore.” His expression and his voice softened. “You’ve healed me.”
Emma regarded him thoughtfully. “Maybe not quite.”
“Yes, fully,” he insisted. Setting the desserts aside, he approached her and took her in his arms. “You’re warm, sweet and a woman a man can count on. That’s what I want. Marry me, Emma.”
This is what you’ve been telling yourself you want, she reminded herself. But the word yes refused to form. Instead she heard herself saying, “I don’t want to feel you’re merely asking me on the rebound.”
He frowned. “I’m not. It’s been over between Monica and me for nearly a year.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ll need a little time to believe you. Ask me again in two weeks,” she bargained.
Determination etched itself into his features. “I’ll ask you every day if necessary until you agree.”
“Two weeks,” she repeated.
“Then how about dessert and a movie for now?” he suggested.
Emma nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.” While he retrieved the desserts she called herself a fool. She could lose him. Better to lose him than to marry a man who would spend his life pining over another woman, she rebutted, and every instinct she had agreed.
A short while later as they sat on the balcony eating fresh strawberries and cream, drinking coffee and watching the sunset, Emma glanced over at Kenneth. There was a grim set to his jaw and a vacant look in his eyes as if his mind were a million miles away. “A penny for your thoughts,” she said. “Or maybe even a quarter. You look pretty serious.”
He jerked his attention to her and she had the impression he’d forgotten she was even there. Then he smiled warmly with apology. “Believe me they are not worth even a penny.” Levering himself out of his chair, he reached for her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. “How about watching one of those videos we rented?”
He was being evasive, she was sure. She was also sure that trying to probe would be useless. Besides, she was fairly certain of what was on his mind...or rather who...Monica McBrady. “A movie sounds wonderful,” she replied.
An hour and a half later, Emma was studying Kenneth covertly as the ending credits ran across the screen. Again he looked as if his mind was a million miles away. “I think I should be going home,” she said, easing herself off the sofa.
He frowned at her. “We have another movie to watch.”
She forced a wide yawn. “I’m more tired than I thought and I’ve got to go to work tomorrow.”
“I guess I haven’t been very good company tonight,” he apologized. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her. “I promise to be much more attentive in the future.”
“As long as you’re being honest with me and yourself about your feelings for Monica McBrady, that’s all that matters,” she replied, wanting to let him know she’d guessed where his mind had been.
His gaze narrowed on her. “I am.”
Again she did not entirely believe him, but she allowed the subject to be dropped. Time will tell, she told herself, deciding not to pursue this any further tonight.
“I’ve arranged for us to play golf with the Evanses this Saturday. Tee off will be at eight,” he informed her as he drove her home.
Mentally Emma groaned. She couldn’t seem to get the hang of the game. Five times out of ten she sliced the ball into the rough. “You just like to play with me because my handicap’s so high and yours is so low,” she bantered, attempting to lighten her mood.
He grinned at her. “I like to play with you because you have a cute little way of shifting your hips that distracts not only me but Jason Evans. His game is always at least six strokes off when you’re with us.”
“Are you sure that isn’t because I slow down the game so much his blood pressure goes up and he can’t concentrate?” she returned dryly.
He gave her a lecherous look. “Absolutely.”
Emma couldn’t stop herself from grinning back. Then Jason Evans was forgotten as they turned onto her street and she saw Mike Flint’s truck parked in front of her house.
“Looks like you’ve got company,” Kenneth observed with a frown.
“My father has company,” she corrected.
As he walked her to her door, she felt her nerves growing tense. “I know this is going to sound impolite, but I’m not going to invite you in,” she said with apology. “I want to simply sneak up to my room without seeing my father or Mike. I’m in no mood to get into an argument with either of them tonight.”
He smiled softly down at her. “I understand.” At her front door, he drew her into his arms for a long, tender good-night kiss then returned to his car.
Rather than going immediately inside, she stood on the porch and waved goodbye as he drove off. Was she making a mistake by not accepting his proposal tonight? she wondered.
“I really wish you’d stop kissing other men.”
Emma jerked around to see Mike standing in the doorway. “I will kiss whomever I please.”
A glint of amusement showed in his eyes. “You have always had a mind of your own. Granted you are sometimes misguided but then we all make mistakes.”
“I am not misguided,” she snapped back. His presence made her tense and she decided that retreat would be the smartest path. “If you’ll excuse me, I was on my way to my room.”
Brushing past him, her shoulder touched his arm. The contact sent a startling surge of heat radiating through her. Quickly she continued toward the stairs.
“A person could get the impression you’re running away from me. I never thought you’d behave so cowardly,” he chided.
The challenge in his voice brought her to a halt. Her shoulders squared with pride and she turned to face him. “I am not behaving cowardly. I simply have no interest in spending time in your company.”
Approaching her, he trailed a finger along the curve of her ear. “If you’d give me a chance, you might find you like my company.”
Emma had to fight to keep from gasping as shivers of delight coursed through her. Life with him would be unsettled and lonely, she reminded herself and steeled herself against any further traitorous responses. “I’m sure you can be pleasant, however, I have more important things to do with my time.”
Capturing her by the chin, he forced her to look up at him. “Lying to yourself can prove to be the most foolhardy deceit of all,” he cautioned.
His touch was disconcerting but she was determined to stand her ground. “I am not lying to myself.”
“Tisk. Tisk,” he admonished mockingly, letting her know he didn’t believe her. His gaze narrowed on hers. “Granted they have been brief, but I’d swear I’ve seen momentary glimpses of passion for me in your eyes. In fact, one of those glimpses happened just this afternoon right after I kissed you and before you had time to rebuild that icy shield you’re so insistent on keeping between us.” Before she could respond, his lips found hers.
She ordered herself to pull away but her legs suddenly seemed too weak to move. Her heart pounded violently and her blood raced. Stop this! she screamed at herself.
Then slowly, with a final nibble on her lips as if to say a regretful goodbye, he lifted his head away. A sense of being abandoned swept through her.
“The heat I see in your eyes right now isn’t anger,” he said in a tone that implied he’d proved his point.
Emma drew a shaky breath. She couldn’t deny the effect his kiss had on her. “I’ll admit you do have a certain physical appeal,” she conceded grudgingly, taking a step back to free herself from his touch. “However, I’m looking for a great deal more in a relationship.” Her gaze cooled. “Stay away from me, Mike Flint,” she ordered, then turned abruptly and started up the stairs.
“I’ve got a feeling we would both live to regret it, if I did that,” he called out to her retreating back.
Alone in her room, for the second time in less than two weeks, Emma fought back a primordial scream. Why couldn’t Kenneth’s kiss feel as exciting as Mike Flint’s! she fumed. Kenneth was exactly what she’d been waiting for. “Maybe I should find myself a deserted island and live out my days there,” she muttered.
Shock spread over her face. That kiss had really unhinged her! She was even thinking like a sailor. “It’s just a temporary insanity. If I stay away from the insufferable Mr. Flint I’ll be fine,” she assured herself.